


About a Boy

by Zoi (Zoisitechan)



Category: Saint Seiya
Genre: Childhood, Feels, Gen, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-09
Updated: 2018-01-09
Packaged: 2019-03-02 19:01:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13324503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zoisitechan/pseuds/Zoi
Summary: Baby Milo and Camus.





	About a Boy

They tell him he is destined for greatness even before he's old enough to walk, that he's special, chosen.

When he's two, one day they come and bring him to a wide, ancient place built in white rock, with columns, pediments and stairs, especially stairs. Soon he doesn't remember anything about his life before that day, memories of a family, of a mother maybe, clouded in a fog he can't quite clear.

By the age of five, they start calling him Scorpio, which he thinks is cool; he discovers he even possess a temple of his own and a armour made of gold. It is shiny and badass, so he loves that scorpion shaped thing, particularly when they tell him he's going to wear it as soon as his body is ready. He counts the days, the months, the years for that.

He isn't the only special kid, though, there are others; they tell him that there're twelve of them, but it's just four of five boys at first, some older than him. There's a kid his age he particularly likes, the boy is a true lion cub, both for his proud temperament and his golden appearence, with tanned skin and dirty blonde hair. He too is tanned, but fair blonde and his eyes are light blue like the sky of Greece. They become friends.

Grown up masters come everyday and bring the children to the arena, to teach them how to fight, to dodge attacks, to take their enemy by surprise; greatness, these days, consists mainly in bloody knuckles and scraped knees, but they work hard anyway.

Plump juvenile limbs soon become long and sculpted. By the age of six, he is already able to defeat simple soldiers. He starts to acknowledge and progressively use his powers, which are tremendous and he can sense it, he figures out why he and the others are going to be the elite. They truly are special, after all, with those powers all different from one another, but all able to kill.

Other chosen ones come from abroad, a very big guy from Brazil, for example, or another kid from India who's quite amazing, with the ability to do everything without opening his eyes.

Milo is friendly to everyone, but best friend to none; the lion boy has an older brother he worships so much nobody could even compare, so he wants a friend who only cares about him. He spends time concentrating more on his training.

Until the day a French child arrives, with his red ( _red!_ ) hair and cold attitude; he looks a little disoriented, but not afraid. He knows he is Gold Saint, too, and perhaps he already understands what it really means more than others. He rarely speaks and when he does it's a few words in his own foreign language. 

He is a loner and the other boys immediately lose interest in him; he seems happy with this outcome. Milo wouldn't relinquish, though. He likes this boy with his cute little face, his mysterious power; his name is Camus, you write it in a way and read it in another. He likes him more than anyone else. He constantly looks at him and the kid notices, so he smiles broadly at him all the time and he receives interrogative looks in return, but Camus seems neither annoyed nor uninterested.

One day Milo injuries himself during training for a blow to his abdomen, with severe bruising forming almost instantly on his skin. He lies on the ground in pain and the French boy kneels silently by him, lifting his shirt and putting one icy hand on the bruise. That cold, little by little, reduces soreness and swelling and Milo looks up at the other boy with big eyes, still a bit watery for trying so hard not to cry.

"Un peu mieux, Milo?" he asks. All that he undestand is that this boy has just said his name. He blushes and he's up on his feet. "Pas si vite!" he says then. Milo wants to appear tough even if his injury hurts.

He holds out his hand to the boy and invites him to follow him.  
He accompanies him to the spot he considers the most beautiful in the Sanctuary, the one with a view on the Mediterranean which is quite far away.  He points his finger at an almost invisible island on the horizon. "That's Milos, I will train there for my Sainthood. Where will you go?"  
Camus looks in the direction of his finger, nods politely and then remains silent.

Milo's left hand which is still a little bit chubby despite of the fact that he's already seven, the hand of a child, takes Camus' right one. The other boy looks at him and smiles softly. Their fingers entwine.

"You don't understand anything of what I'm saying, do you? I'll teach you Greek, starting tomorrow". His blonde hair is always messy, much more so in the wind, so it covers almost half of his face but his smile, that one, can be seen: he looks happy. 

 "D'accord" the other boy replies.

 


End file.
